Shutout

Chapter 18 - Logan

We're on the road again, a week or two after Bac, Toi, and Hayden met Kane. Later, they all told me how funny and nice he was. Toi even said, "he's a good man for you, Klicker. Treat each other right," with a little pat on the shoulder. Bac spread the news, with both my and Kane's approval (because they shared numbers?!?!?!?), that he got the privilege of meeting my partner at that everyone else "can suck it because I'm the favorite. Even more than he likes Klicky" which may honestly be true. The other men waved him off but congratulated me like I got engaged or something. I don't deny their praise and thank them anyway. 

Porter did not take it well. Before, he tried to hide his disdain and disgust for me. Now he openly scowls and mutters bullshit under his breath when I'm near or discussed. No one has seemed to really notice, so I don't do anything about it. I keep trying to ignore it, ignore the way it makes my heart skip a beat with fear or something. 

It's on the road when Porter is plowed down by defensemen from the LA Kings. His helmet is nearly knocked off, and he's slow to get up from where he's laid out on the ice. Med team runs out to him, but he brushes him off, trying to pretend like he's okay. Nevertheless, he's pulled from the game, and suddenly, I'm skating out. Porter is not happy about any of it, but my teammates still fist-pump me as I make my way to the net. I do my ritual and position myself in front, determined not to let this game go to shit just because a player got hurt. It's always a mixed feeling having to go in after someone gets hurt. You feel bad and worry about the players, even if they hate your existence, but it's always exciting to be in the game. 

We don't win. But it was tight, so I try not to beat myself up about it. 

Bac insists on going out after the game to clean the slate or something. Only a few guys have agreed to join him, and I'm not one of them. I love being out with Bac; he brings so much energy to my life. But sometimes you just don't want to drink or be in crowds. 

I'm rooming with Hayden again, so when my phone rings, I escape into the hallway. It's Kane's caller ID, but it's already late here; it has to be super late in Indianapolis. And Kane can never stay up late. It makes my stomach twist uncomfortably as I press the accept button. 

"Hello?"

"Hey," his voice is sleepy like he woke up recently or is on the verge of falling asleep. I imagine myself in his bed across from him, staring at the way his eyes flutter close and his hair sweeps on his forehead as he falls asleep.

"Hey, what you doing up so late?"

"I ended up having a seizure, so while I was awake I checked the game—"

"—are you okay?"

Kane explained to me that as time has progressed, his seizures have lessened in amount. Where he used to have a handful each month, he now only has a few a year. Something can trigger a seizure, like heat and stress, and stuff. As far as I know, he hasn't had a seizure the whole time we've dated, but he likely hasn't told me everything. What I do know is that it's not something that's easy to recover, and he usually pees himself during it. He was sort of embarrassed to talk to me about it because he's a grown man, and it doesn't happen often, but I don't think he realized how grateful I was to learn and understand. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was a little while ago, so I laid in bed for a little bit before I got up and changed my clothes and all the sheets and whatnot. I'm not sure what triggered it, but okay. I'm okay."

I breathe out slowly as I move to sit on the rough carpet of the hotel hallway, "That's good, that's good."

He hmms sleepily on the other end of the phone, "I'm sorry you lost. You played good for not knowing you would have to get in."